Patty Mills was convinced of it: this place was hell on earth.
First of all, he was surrounded by depraved sickos. What else would one expect from a place called “San Antonio Paraphilia Rehabilitation”? As he sat in his padded cell, he tried to remember all the crazies he had been forced to talk with during group therapy. There was the guy who cut off girls’ hair like a ninja, and the guy who was covered with burn marks because the only way he could get off was to set himself on fire, and the sad loser whose parents had found tentacle-themed hentai on his computer.
How was it fair that he himself, who only had a small towel problem that wasn’t even a big deal, had to share space with the world’s most demented perverts? He blamed Tim. Tim had been meddling, sticking his nose into places where it didn’t belong. It was illegal how Tim had thrown a straitjacket on him and abducted him to this place. Not only illegal, but discriminatory towards Aborigines! But none of the nurses wanted to hear about it. Wasn’t he supposed to get a phone call or something?
Second, there were no towels anywhere in the whole building, as far as Patty could tell. That should have been impossible, because so-called “normal” people (a group which Patty considered himself a part of) would use towels to dry themselves off. It’s not like everybody here had a tiny little towel fetish that everybody was blowing way out of proportion even though he exposed himself to a bunch of kids at a charity swimming event. There had to be some towels somewhere. They were just being hidden from him by those bitch nurses.
Being handed a hair-dryer after a shower was like the ultimate shame.
Third, they kept telling him that he couldn’t leave until he was fixed. That if he was still getting aroused by fluffy, colorful, wave-able, sexy towels, he had to continue treatment. He had asked for a computer so that he could watch normal porn and prove to the doctors that he was cured, but they wouldn’t let him do that. I mean, it wasn’t like he found naked chicks to be ugly, it’s just that towels had that something extra that human women didn’t have. Those heteronormative doctors just wanted to invent problems for people so they could keep collecting their fat checks.
Patty shook his head and sighed. He wanted a towel.